Elayra stumbled back. She kept her balance until the heel of her boot hit a clod of earth, and she fell. She pulled her legs toward her to push herself up, but hands gipped her upper arms, helping in tugging her to standing.
	Surprise flashed through her at the assist, but irritation quickly replaced it as Ghent adjusted his grip and pulled her toward their packs. She stumbled a couple steps from the sudden change in direction, but swiftly righted herself.
	[b]“Shut up before you get yourself killed, okay?”[/b]
	“[i]I’m[/i] not the one who nearly set the forest on fire!” she growled back, her volume matching his, hoping to avoid Drust’s notice.
	She wrenched her arm from him and quickened her pace. She cast a quick glance back toward the tree, Drust’s kneeling form barely visible behind it. 
	At their packs, she snatched up the one the White Knight had tossed aside. Different colored stains dappled the rugged fabric, some more faded than others. It had an odd, musty smell, but otherwise seemed to be in decent condition.
	Opening it, she rummaged through its contents. Though not enchanted, Drust had managed to shove a good amount into it, including a few pilfered changes of clothes, while leaving room to spare.
	“I think this is yours.” She spun toward Ghent and tossed the pack toward him, not caring if he saw it coming at him, let alone if he caught it or not. “See if anything in there fits. Unless you [i]like[/i] parading around in your boxers.”